


Riddle's Revenge

by iam93percentstardust



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Sexism, Slurs, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: In the summer after his sixth year, Tom Riddle travels to Little Hangleton to discover the truth about his past. Little does he know that his family still has many secrets kept hidden and that some secrets will be worth killing over.





	Riddle's Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the dialogue between Tom and Morfin is taken from J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

It wasn’t much to look at. Tom was rather disgusted by it in fact. The truth was, it was a ramshackle hut. There was an old snakeskin nailed to the door. The windows were so grimy Tom wasn’t sure if even a cleaning spell would work. There were holes in the thatched roof and the door leaned on its hinges.

Yes, Tom thought, this had to be the place.

He started to open the door but then decided to at least show the pretense of politeness. He knocked once and then opened the door.

The room inside was filthy. The ceiling was covered in cobwebs. The floor had at least three layers of dirt coating it. Rotting food was strewn across the wobbly table. A smell of uncleanliness permeated the building. There was only one light in the room, a flickering candle, almost out, illuminating a man so dirty that Tom almost mistook him for part of the furniture.

The man jerked awake, raising a knife and a wand. He took one look at Tom and lunged to his feet.

“YOU!” he bellowed. “YOU!”

“ _Stop_ ,” Tom ordered in Parseltongue. The man froze. For a minute, the two contemplated each other. Tom took in the matted hair and crossed eyes. His lip curled. Slytherin’s descendants living in a hovel like this- the idea was appalling. He was almost grateful that he had the orphanage to return to.

“ _You speak it?_ ” the man asked. He seemed slightly stunned.

Tom felt a brief flash of disappointment. He’d hoped briefly that this man would not be a descendant of Slytherin but instead just a caretaker of the home. He moved forward, letting the door swing shut. “ _Yes, I speak it_ ,” he replied.

He glanced around, almost hoping to see Marvolo. “ _Where is Marvolo?_ ” he finally asked.

“ _Dead_ ,” said the other man. “ _Died years ago, didn’t he?_ ”

Tom frowned. None of the records he’d found had said anything about another Gaunt. The line had ended at Marvolo, the records stated. Clearly, this wasn’t true, as Tom existed and knew that he was not Marvolo’s son. But then, who was this? For a moment, he was fearful that this man might be his father (some of the records had insinuated incest).

“ _Who are you, then?_ ”

“ _I’m Morfin, ain’t I?_ ”

“ _Marvolo’s son?_ ” Tom asked sharply.

“ _’Course I am, then…_ ” Morfin moved his hair out of his face in order to take a closer look at Tom. Tom’s eyes caught the glint of the black-stoned ring Morfin wore. His eyes gleamed at the sight of the sigil inscribed.

“ _I thought you was that Muggle_ ,” Morfin muttered. “ _You look mighty like that Muggle._ ”

“ _What Muggle?_ ” Tom asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.

“ _That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way_ ,” said Morfin. He spat on the floor, his face twisting in anger and disgust. “ _You look right like him. Riddle. But he’s older now, in ‘e? He’s older’n you, now I think on it…_ ” He swayed unsteadily and Tom saw a half-empty bottle on the floor behind him. “ _He come back, see._ ”

Tom looked back at Morfin. He hadn’t realized that Tom Riddle lived so close. For that matter, he hadn’t realized that his father was still alive. It wasn’t as though wizards kept track of Muggle families.

“ _Riddle came back?_ ” he queried.

“ _Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!_ ” Morfin yelled. “ _Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where’s the locket, eh, where’s Slytherin’s locket?_ ”

Tom felt a momentary thrill. He hadn’t heard of Slytherin’s locket. He wondered where it was now. Surely, it must have been pawned or else it would have come to Tom by now. Well, it was no matter. He knew that he could track it down. It was just a matter of finding the right person.

Morfin didn’t seem to notice that Tom had been silent this entire time. He continued to shout, “ _Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who’re you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It’s over, innit…it’s over…_ ”

Allowing himself a cold smile, Tom said simply, “ _I’m no one._ ” Morfin didn’t seem to like that answer and he started to raise his wand but Tom was faster. He silently cast the Full-Body Binding spell and Morfin froze, then toppled over. Tom stared at him for a moment longer. It was horrifying how far Slytherin’s line had fallen. But he, Tom, had great plans and he would raise the name of Slytherin once more.

* * *

 

After asking directions in the village inn, Tom made his way to the big house on the hill. He studied it for a long minute. It was easily the largest and grandest house for miles around. He could have seen himself growing up there- it was his birthright. Tom both loved and hated it.

He saw no reason to not let himself in. After all, it was just as much his house as Morfin’s house was. He even shared a name with the owner of the home.

The locked door didn’t deter him. He saw no one when he entered the house. It was laughably easy. Tom ghosted through the house, wand at the ready. It wasn’t long before he heard laughing voices coming from the dining room.

He paused at the cracked door to make certain of where the voices were coming from. Well, he thought to himself, it wasn’t as though he could be any more prepared.

Tom threw open the door.

He saw the stunned looks of the three Riddles as they took in his appearance. His lip curled in a sneer. There was a red gleam in his eyes. He raised his wand at his grandmother-

“ _Avada Kedavra_ ,” he hissed.

There was a flash of green light and her heart stopped. She slumped forward over her plate. Tom felt a thrill of satisfaction. He’d almost been worried that the spell wouldn’t have worked- he’d only just learned it a few weeks ago.

He turned to his grandfather. The man’s eyes were wide in fear and he started to rise from his chair. Whether it was to go to his wife or to try to stop the murderer, Tom would never know. For, as Tom Riddle Sr. stood, Tom said fiercely, “ _Avada Kedavra_.” A flash of green and his grandfather stopped dead in his tracks. He remained standing for just one more second and then crumpled back into his chair, head thrown back.

Tom then turned to his father.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked quietly, quite calm now. His father clutched the table, his knuckles white. Tom could see in his eyes that the older man was planning to try to run for it. “Oh, we can’t have that now. _Locomotor Mortis_.”

Tom Riddle Jr.’s legs froze in his seat. Pulling out a chair, Tom sat down. “Let’s try this again,” he said. “Do you know who I am?”

His father nodded slowly. “You’re her child. The Gaunt girl’s.”

One of Tom’s eyebrows rose. “Just hers?”

Sighing, Mr. Riddle closed his eyes. “No, not just hers. Mine.” It seemed as though the words pained him but it pained Tom even more. He had hoped against hope that it wouldn’t be true. That he wouldn’t be just a Half-blood. But he could see his own features in the man sitting before him and it was impossible to deny the words coming from his mouth.

“You called her the Gaunt girl,” Tom continued. “Did you even know her name?”

Mr. Riddle tilted his head back, ashamed to meet Tom’s eyes. “No. Those few months that I was- was with her, it was like a daze. I don’t remember anything.” Tom could tell that he was lying- not about his mother’s name but about not remembering anything else- and he was disgusted.

“Did you even know who she was? Did you know whose line she descended from?” Tom demanded.

“Why would it matter?” Mr. Riddle fired back. “She was hideous and a liar and a witch!” He spat out the last word as though it, more than anything, offended him the most.

Tom sat back in his chair. He studied his father and found that, much like Morfin Gaunt, he didn’t like what he saw.

“I’m going to kill you now,” he said, voice cold as ice. “Do you know why?”

“Because I left,” Mr. Riddle said simply like it was obvious.

“No,” Tom corrected him. “I’m going to kill you for no reason at all, other than I want to.” He raised his wand. Mr. Riddle never even heard the words, just a rushing in his ears. There was a flash of green light.

Tom studied the bodies of his family with a detached sort of disinterest. He felt nothing more than if he had squashed a couple of irritating insects. Standing, he turned to leave. After all, he had unfinished business with the Gaunts.


End file.
